


Rid Me Of the Problems, Do All That You Can

by Vadianna



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: I am as surprised as you, M/M, Pre-TFA, somehow the ending wound up being the softest kylux, superstitious belief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vadianna/pseuds/Vadianna
Summary: Kylo Ren discovers a reliance on elaborate rituals and routines for luck among those raised on Arkanis.  He thinks little of this, until his own luck takes a turn for the worst, and his missions and health begin to fail him.  Finding no answers in the Force, he approaches General Hux for a solution.  Hux may or may not take advantage of this.





	Rid Me Of the Problems, Do All That You Can

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [@kylux-anthology](http://kylux-anthology.tumblr.com), with the theme of 'Spectrum.' I used the theme to *pushes pretentious glasses up nose* examine the context of the Force alongside other systems of belief. I wrote this almost a year ago, so both my writing style and characterization have changed quite a bit.
> 
> I tried to stay well away from any major religions. Hux's habits are based in superstitions, most of which I made up.

“What are you doing?”

Hux gave Kylo a whithering look as he glanced up from his breakfast, then back down. “I’m dividing it into portions, if you must know. Can I help you with anything, Ren?”

Kylo was standing behind Hux, looking over his shoulder, as the other sat at a bench in the officer’s mess.

“Does that… work?” he asked, fascinated, when the four equal portions slid back together into a gelatinous whole a moment later. Hux had already spooned up two bites as he paged quickly through messages on his datapad.

“Hmm?” Hux asked, not looking up at him this time.

“Why are you dividing your semi-liquid rations into portions, General?”

Hux did glance up at this, brows knit in annoyance. “It aids digestion.”

Kylo waited for clarification, but none came, and Hux turned back to his breakfast and datapad. “Can I help you with something, Ren?”

“Yes. I want to know how that aids digestion, General.”

Hux huffed, setting his spoon down and looking up at Ren. “It simply does. One runs the risk of stomachache if you do not split your food into four equal portions before consumption.”

Kylo’s face was currently masked, so he let his mouth fall open slightly as he pondered the ridiculousness of the statement. He waited for Hux to provide a better explanation, to offer a sarcastic remark, for some sign that the stoic man was putting Kylo on.

But Hux seemed earnest. His attention was on Kylo now, presumably waiting for Kylo to reveal the reason for his visit. It had fled his mind as soon as he saw Hux playing with his food.

“It… simply does.”

Hux nodded, then gestured to the crowded room. “Ask anyone.”

“And have them laugh at me, because they won’t believe General Hux gave an inane reason for a compulsive mealtime habit?”

Hux turned, raising his voice to address an officer at the next table. “Lieutenant Prell. Will you explain to Kylo Ren what you do before every meal?”

The woman glanced up, startled, looking wide-eyed from Hux to Kylo and back again, spoon in her mouth. She swallowed, then straightened.

“I divide it into four equal portions to prevent indigestion.”

“And you believe that, Lieutenant?” Kylo didn’t make a habit of speaking to Hux’s officers, but he refused to believe they all did this.

She nodded, confused, looking to Hux again before giving her attention to Kylo. “Yes, sir? It’s routine, same as cleaning your boots, pledging to the Order, and sleeping with your gloves under your pillow.”

Kylo frowned and turned to Hux again, who pushed himself up from the bench. Kylo wanted to ask for clarification, but-

“Kylo Ren. There was one last thing about your mission I wanted to discuss before you left this morning. Will you accompany me to my office?”

Kylo nodded and followed Hux as he gathered his datapad and left the room. They walked in silence to the lift at the end of the hallway, and Kylo turned to him as soon as the doors closed.

“You didn’t want me asking questions in the Officer’s mess.”

Hux shook his head, staring forward. “No. More questions would have made it obvious that you came from outside the Order, and the Supreme Leader doesn’t want such things known.” Hux turned to him. “But you did have more questions. Ask them.”

Kylo turned his helmet forward, then turned back to ask before the door opened. “Why do you sleep with your gloves under your pillow?”

Hux was silent, waiting until they were both in his office, Hux sitting behind his desk with his datapad docked.

“It improves your marksmanship, and makes you a harder target to hit.” Hux glanced to him briefly, then back to his datapad. “You don’t do it?”

Kylo shook his head. “General, you are a man of science, of action.” He waved a hand, frustrated. “You command an army of tens of thousands. You are key in developing and staffing a base with a weapon large enough to wipe out a star system. Certainly you understand that there’s no correlation between sleeping with your gloves under your pillow and how accurately you fire a blaster.”

Hux shrugged one shoulder. “Intellectually, I know that. But we’ve all done it since we were old enough to hold a gun.”

“All? All who?”

“The officers. Anyone who lived on Arkanis, or went to the Academies.” He sounded thoughtful, on the cusp of saying something else, but his attention was diverted by something on his screen.

Kylo shook his head. “I can’t believe you all have these senseless habits. What other irrational daily compulsions do you perform?”

Hux glanced at him again, raising an eyebrow. “They aren’t irrational, nor are they compulsions.” He looked back to the screen, his face getting that thoughtful cast to it again. “I have no idea what you might find peculiar about my routine. I did not realize your own habits were different until this morning.”

Kylo crossed his arms. “It’s simple. What other actions do you perform that have no point, General?”

Hux looked annoyed, but didn’t look back up at Kylo. “They all have a point. I’ve explained the two you find odd.”

“But you don’t really believe that.”

“I believe it enough to do it. It costs me nothing to be sure.”

“Surely you’ve had stomachaches before. Why, if portioning your food prevents it?”

Hux shrugged. “There are different ways to get them. I’ve never had one from not dividing my food into portions.”

“What about soup?”

Hux sighed, smoothing one hand over his red hair. He had foregone his command cap this morning, and Kylo always appreciated the unobstructed view of his face, his hair, his clean lines and neatness.

Hux’s blue eyes turned back to him. Not angry or exasperated, but interested. “You draw the spoon through cross-ways before you eat it, as you saw me do with the rations this morning.”

“But that does nothing!”

“It satisfies the requirement. I don’t understand why you are having a hard time believing this.”

“Because it’s silly! It’s like a child’s game! And you, of all people-” Kylo cut himself off. He wasn’t sure how Hux would take the implication, though Kylo had meant he was simply a highly-ranked, competent military man. Certainly he understood how it looked.

Hux cocked his head. “And you, of all people, can’t understand the power of belief? Are you not an acolyte of your religion?”

Kylo let out an involuntary bark of laughter, which sounded distorted and harsh through his vocoder. “You can’t possibly be comparing these games to the Force.”

Hux’s brow furrowed. “And why not?”

“Because the Force is in all things, all life in the universe. I can feel it always, and manipulate it directly.” Kylo stepped forward, leaning with one hand on the desk, using the other to levitate one of Hux’s styluses in a show of power. “I know it exists, and I can prove to others it exists. What can you prove to me about your superstitions?”

Hux kept his eyes on the stylus. “And yet, until I met you, I knew nothing of the Force. Why would I believe in it, even now, when I still cannot feel or manipulate it myself?”

Kylo snorted, which produced another odd sound through his vocoder. “The great thing about the Force is that it’s true whether or not you believe in it.” He let the stylus drop to the desktop.

“And I could say the same of my habits, couldn’t I?”

“I don’t sleep with gloves under my pillow, and I’ve survived many battles. Nor do I have digestive issues from not dividing my food into portions.”

Hux shook his head, attention going back to his datapad. “Mock the beliefs of others at your own peril, Kylo Ren. You may be a master of your Force, but the galaxy is vast, and it is not the only power.”

Kylo shook his head. “It is. It is in all things, and I know it to be true.”

Hux shrugged, still not looking at Kylo. “Then take comfort in it. I have skipped my breakfast to have you insult my beliefs in my office. If you are finished, I have much to do today.”

Kylo clenched his jaw, wanting to continue the argument, but there was no point. Neither of them would budge. He turned and left.

 

* * *

 

Kylo’s mood did not improve while away on his mission. He had been sent to locate Resistance sympathizers in a settlement, but was surprised by a force of guerrilla soldiers. Several of his troopers were lost, and he himself was shot twice before the rebels were pacified.

And because of that, he could not stop thinking of what Hux had said about the gloves. He knew that wasn’t why he’d failed. There had been too many soldiers firing at him. He had deflected several bullets, but he could have done better. It would take training and experience. Not gloves under his pillow.

He meditated, which assured him of his connection to the Force and the progress of his training. But his curiosity about the habits of the First Order remained. He reasoned that learning more about it would make it easier to dismiss. So he decided to ask someone else.

He found Phasma in the large training facility, consulting with the pauldroned sergeants after the trooper exercises. He waited for them to finish before approaching her.

“Captain, a word.”

Phasma’s helmet turned to him, expressionless, and he observed his own expressionless helmet in its chrome reflection. He suddenly realized how awkward this discussion would be, based on the very few times they had spoken previously.

Phasma inclined her helmet towards him. “Kylo Ren. I was sorry to hear about your last mission.”

Kylo had an irrational thought that Phasma was somehow taunting him. But he calmed himself, took the words at face value, and shook his head. “My... condolences for the loss of your troopers.” He knew both Phasma and Hux held bizarrely comprehensive knowledge of the thousands of troopers, and he wondered how they felt when they died.

“We will be more successful next time.”

“Of course.” He shifted his weight. “My errand today is… unrelated to that.”

Phasma tilted her head. “Oh? How can I assist you, Kylo Ren?”

He wasn’t sure where to begin. “You know of my… Force.”

Phasma shook her head. “Not much. I have heard you are a practitioner. You wield a plasma sword and can deflect shots with it. I have seen you move bodies and objects with your mind. Other than what I have witnessed, I have no knowledge of it.”

“The Force… influences all life.” He licked his lips. An explanation wouldn’t be useful here. “It is real. I can call on its power, and the results are visible to others.”

Phasma had no answer to this, so he continued, regretting this conversation.

“Recently I witnessed… certain rituals. Completed by the officers. I was told it was a religion, similar to my belief in the Force.” He gestured awkwardly with his hand. “But the rituals have no power.”

Phasma made an indistinct noise. “The officer’s rituals?”

“Yes. I was told… all the officers hold the same beliefs. The individual I spoke to was unaware the habits were not ubiquitous. The one I witnessed was portioning food to avoid illness.”

“I’ve seen that, yes. What are you asking me?”

“You don’t do the portioning yourself?”

Phasma shook her head. “I’ve noticed the officers doing it, but never asked. They all do it, so I assumed it was a habit from the Academies. I was not raised with it.”

“So you don’t… have belief in such gestures.”

“No.”

“And… do the Stormtroopers have the same habits?”

Phasma shook her head. “They do not. Their actions are heavily regulated from a young age.”

“Are they taught… a different system of beliefs? I assume such things are decided the officers. Why wouldn’t they pass their own beliefs on to the Troopers?”

Phasma shook her head again. “The Troopers are raised to believe in the power of the First Order and the worth of their contribution to it. We pledge our devotion when we open our eyes in the morning, and again when we put our armor on. We pledge again before every meal, before every engagement, when we remove our armor at night, and before we go to sleep. We are loyal, we are part of a whole, and what we do matters. We make the Order better, and the Order makes us better in turn.”

Phasma paused, and Kylo stared at her, speechless. She waved her hand.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Kylo Ren. You seem to imply that your belief in the Force is more significant than the officer’s belief in their routines. But I don't know the routines of the officers, and I know nothing of your Force.” She turned to face a banner with the First Order insignia that hung from the high ceiling of the room. “But I see my soldiers performing admirably, and I strive always to make them better. I see evidence, the proof of my belief in the First Order, every day.” She turned back to Kylo, who saw his helmet reflected in hers once again. “That your belief in the Force supersedes your belief in the Order troubles me.”

She saluted, then turned and walked away without being dismissed. Kylo watched her go in silence.

 

* * *

 

The Force was not with Kylo Ren. Incident after incident befell him, and the more incredulous he became over his bad luck, the more he could feel his control of the Force slipping. His meditations began to fail him. He began to lose surety of his place in the universe and his power in it.

There were no big events, nothing like his first botched mission. But the many small, infuriating episodes added up.

The shuttle transport he was taking to a pacification campaign suddenly went dead, and the onboard engineers could not determine why. They were stranded nearly seventeen hours, and had almost run out of air by the time they were missed and located.

He was shot on nearly every mission, including ones that were simple bodyguard or negotiation missions. Logic told him that he was more of a target than the officers or diplomats he was guarding. It was good strategy to shoot at him first. But he could only stop so many shots, and the ones that hit him were those that he had no sense of in the Force. He couldn’t feel them at all. The shots were never fatal, but their frequency led to him wearing more body armor, which was cumbersome and uncomfortable.

It made him clumsy and paranoid that others would notice he was no longer secure in his own powers. He tried to wear a cloak to cover the bulk of the new armor, and tripped over it and fell down a shuttle ramp in front of a legion of Stormtroopers and a full complement of officers.

It was the food poisoning that had him confined to his quarters for three days, nearly begging for death, that made him finally approach General Hux. He scheduled an appointment and was careful to show up on time, with his helmet cleaned, his attire fresh, and new gloves and boots. It couldn’t hurt.

Hux stood from his desk chair to greet him, which was a good start. “Kylo Ren. Your meeting request was unexpected. What can I do for you?”

In theory, this should have been harder than asking Captain Phasma. But Kylo found that the words came easily this time, though perhaps not in the most circumspect manner.

“I've been sick for past three days.”

Hux raised an eyebrow and clasped his gloved hands behind his back, but he did not sit down. “Did you mistake my office for the med unit?”

“It was a stomach bug. Or 'digestive problems,' as you put it.”

Kylo saw understanding flash across Hux’s face, quickly concealed behind his impersonal mask. “I see. And you wanted my advice, specifically?”

“I keep getting shot. I trip over my robes. My…” He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to divulge this much, but the truth rushed out before he could think better of it. “My communion with the Force has been weakened.”

The General shifted slightly, and Kylo couldn’t read the new posture. “You look well enough.”

Kylo tipped his head down and back up. That was true enough. Normally he would have worn his robes ragged, full of the blaster holes that had felled him in battle recently. With fresh robes, he likely did look well.

“That's nice of you.”

“And you are telling me this… why?”

“You told me to mock the beliefs of others at my peril. I can’t stop thinking about that.” He hesitated, but there was no point to concealing the truth now. “At first, I couldn’t believe every officer on this ship, hundreds of people with the galaxy at their mercy, made a cross motion through their soup before eating it because they believed, with the same conviction they believe they can rule the galaxy, that they would get a stomachache if they didn’t. But I… seem to have lost a finer communion with the Force, and I keep having problems with the same things you told me the rituals to guard against. And I wonder if you were right, about the respect.”

Hux studied him again, head to foot. Through his helmet, Kylo took the opportunity to do the same. Hux always looked sharp, the grays and blacks of his uniform complementing his severe demeanor. He was not wearing his command cap, and his hair stood out, a spot of color in the gray world of the Finalizer.

Hux’s eyes returned to Kylo’s helmet after his appraisal. “And you want me to… what? Exorcise you of your bad luck?”

“”Yes.” Kylo was blunt. “Maybe whatever influences your beliefs is blocking my connection to the Force. If you have rituals that help your life and health, you must have some that can help me get mine back.”  He paused.  "Or appease whatever it is that I've disrespected."

Hux opened his mouth, but closed it again and looked at Kylo, still considering. He nodded once and folded his arms across his chest.

“Of course. And you’re sure about this?”

A flash of suspicion surfaced in Kylo’s mind - something he would normally investigate with a touch of the Force. But nothing came when he reached for it now, and he felt a brief spike of panic instead. He shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m very serious.”

Hux walked out from behind his desk and stepped closer to Kylo, still thoughtful. “You’ll have to look the part, of course.”

“What do you mean?”

“One of the first things we learn, the basis of our lives, is that clothing makes one’s self. Our society runs on uniform, be it officers, maintenance workers, office staff, domestics. Every profession has a uniform for both on-duty and off. There are many beliefs that go along with each uniform for each profession.”

Kylo paused. “Am I not wearing my own uniform?”

Hux raised his eyebrows. “We don’t have Force users in our culture. As a Co-Commander, I think a uniform like mine, without the rank, should suffice. Don’t you?”

Kylo thinned his lips behind the helmet. He didn’t care for uniforms. “Does everyone really wear a uniform all the time? You have no… fashion, otherwise?”

“This will go faster if you take what I’m saying at face value, instead of making me repeat myself.”

Kylo exhaled in exasperation, which came out as a puff of static through his vocoder. But he nodded.

“You’ll need to care for it.” Hux touched his own collar. “Make sure all the fastenings are done up correctly. A crooked or open fastening, or a fastening braking during the day, will mean that you will fail to accomplish a goal.” He bent and gestured at his own boots. “We all polish our boots every night. This ensures that everything stays on schedule and nothing falls behind.”

Kylo clenched his teeth. He was not usually a meticulous dresser. “And I sleep with my gloves beneath my pillow.”

“Of course. Keeping them in good order also makes your hands sure in all tasks.”

“And I suppose I’ll have to style my hair?”

Hux paused. “Your hair is… long. I assume you prefer it that way. Braiding it should do. It simply has to be neat. That ensures that your advice will be followed.”

Kylo turned his head away. “How long will I have to dress like that? Weeks?”

Hux looked surprised. “No. We have a ritual for expelling bad luck. I was thinking I would help you with it, and you would only need to dress appropriately for that.”

Kylo let the tension out of his body. That wasn’t so bad. He’d done rituals before, he could understand the significance. “Okay. What’s the ritual?”

Hux turned to look out a viewport. “If you get a buildup of bad luck, you need to go to Sylphis, Arkanis’s 3rd moon, during Off-teth, when the other two moons and Arkanis will be visible together in the night sky. You perform the ritual in the Beaubien Woods, next to the shallow pond.”

Kylo nodded, interested. There were deep Force meditations that could be performed at the old Jedi temples, or on Moraband.  They could be especially potent under conditions just like these. This sounded like powerful magic. “And how do I purify myself?”

“It’s a ritual of consumption. There are foods one consumes to… purify.” He made a vague gesture with one of his hands, turning and staring intently at Kylo’s helmet. “You’ll need the Hos Plum Wine produced on Arkanis, vorri steaks, sliced goos potatoes, and lora beans. Something sweet too, but make sure it’s a dish native to Arkanis.”

Kylo nodded. This made sense. “The staples from Arkanis will purify me.”

Hux nodded. “Yes. I’ve only done it once before, but I haven’t forgotten.”

“I should have guessed. You seem like one for rules.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It was how I was raised. Care to mock my culture further, Ren?”

Kylo turned his head away again, chastened, though not willing to say it out loud. “Do I have to prepare the food in the woods?”

“No. Bring it already prepared and portioned out. I’ll be there, and I’ll bring the necessary plate.”

Kylo made a noise of agreement. “When is the next opportunity to perform the ritual?”

Hux retrieved a datapad from his desk and tapped at the screen. “It will be three standard weeks before the planets are in proper alignment.” He glanced to Kylo. “Will that suffice? Would you like me to add it to the schedule?”

Kylo shifted. He didn’t want to wait three more weeks, but would if he must. “Fine. Can you make the appointment private?”

The corner of Hux’s mouth quirked. “Of course. I’ll set it to private for both of us. I wouldn’t want the others to think I was performing the ritual for myself. It would be bad for morale.”

Kylo clenched his jaw again, but nodded, ignoring the jab in an attempt to be somewhat grateful. “I would appreciate it.”

 

* * *

 

Kylo became increasingly desperate as the weeks passed. He was bitten by a wild jarlish that he did not sense while on another diplomatic mission, and the bite festered. He’d woken up in the med-bay to find that his blood had been replaced with synth, which would weaken his communion with the Force until his body either grew used to it or processed it. As a result, he was nearly useless on missions. He was shot again and again. His fury still made him formidable in battle, and there was little that stopped his lightsaber, but he could no longer stop blaster shots. He was captured and spent several days in captivity, more afraid that the dates for the ritual would pass before he escaped rather than being executed.

But the date came, and he met Hux near the woods, the required meal prepared in advance and packaged by a famous Arkanis restaurant - Kylo spared no expense. He’d ordered a uniform to Hux’s specifications, and new gloves and boots to go with it. He’d scrubbed his skin more thoroughly than he had in years, and braided his hair the way his mother had taught him - a lesson he was loathe to dredge from his memory, but he found the pull to the Light was not currently troubling him. It only caused him to braid neater.

Hux met him in uniform, but with no greatcoat or cap. He looked Kylo over and nodded, then led him down the paved path through the woods, the way lit by the large, luminous bodies in the night sky, Arkanis swirling green and white and massive.

They eventually ventured off the path to a lake that was large and clear and reflected the stars and planets beautifully in its surface. Face uncovered, Kylo was self-conscious and tried not to fidget. He watched the General remove a blanket and spread it on the grass, then set up an ornately wrought iron dinnerware set, with what Kylo assumed to be native vines and flowers of Arkanis wrought in exquisite detail. Kylo brightened at its appearance - if anything could un-curse him, this would.

Kylo let Hux serve the food and pour the wine. They ate in silence for a time, Kylo eager for the ritual to start. He carefully cut his steak, potatoes, and beans into four portions, nearly forgetting until he saw Hux do it.

He grew more puzzled as the meal wore on. They both finished, and Hux brought out the small dessert cake and served it on two plates.

Kylo had grown tired of waiting. “Do I still quarter my portion, or should I only halve it since the cake was small and already divided?" 

Hux shrugged, met his gaze, and forked a bite of the cake into his mouth. Kylo’s mouth fell open as the General swallowed and his tongue came out to catch a crumb from his lips.

“I really couldn’t tell you.”

“I… what? But you’ll get sick. Right?”

“Mmm,” Hux’s gaze drifted back down to the plate in his lap, and he brought another forkful to his mouth before meeting Kylo’s eyes again. “We’ll see. Sometimes I forget if I’m distracted. It doesn’t usually make me sick.”

Kylo stared at him. “So… sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t?”

“Sometimes. And when I camped and ran training missions as a cadet, I had no pillow to put my gloves under. None of us did. Some of us came back.”

“So… are you telling me… your beliefs… hold no power?”

“I didn’t say that. But I don’t think about them. I’m somewhat fascinated that you decided they were the cause of your bad luck.”

“Of course I did! You said I disrespected them. And then bad things started to happen to me. Of course that’s why.”

“I said that because I was annoyed that you were mocking me.” His tongue came out to clean the last of the frosting off the fork, and Kylo stared as Hux closed his eyes, clearly pleased by the desert. He set the fork aside and leaned back on his hands. “But it is true. I do most of it without thinking, because I was taught that way. It’s no more or less valid than the Force.” He stared at Kylo another moment as Kylo was mustering his thoughts, growing more enraged. “But in officer training, I was also taught the power of positive and negative thoughts. You must believe you can succeed, because you will fail otherwise.” He gestured with one hand. “I do believe that. I’ve found it to be true again and again. That is likely what happened, in your case.”

Kylo clenched his jaw, and narrowed his eyes. “So this was just to mock me, inviting me out here like this?” He paused, his anger abating slightly as the impassive look on Hux’s face didn’t change. “Or… is it real? Is this actually something you can do to end bad luck?” Kylo was still inclined to believe that he’d been right the first time.

“No, I made all this up.” To Kylo’s surprise, the corner of Hux's mouth quirked into a smile. “But I wouldn’t say it was to mock you, no.”

Kylo blinked. “Then… why?”

Hux turned to look at the lake, and gestured to the sky. “I enjoy this spot, and it’s beautiful here during Off-teth. I’ve seen it twice before, and enjoyed a meal every time.” He turned back to Kylo. “The food was perfect, thank you.”

“It was just… what you wanted for dinner?”

Hux shrugged, his face going impassive once again. “Dinner and your company, yes.”

Kylo’s mind worked slowly. It still didn’t make sense. “But… why did you tell me to wear this, then. Did you…”

Hux shrugged again. “I thought you would look fetching. You do.”

Kylo blinked. “You just… wanted to have a dinner with me. Here.”

Hux turned back out to the water.

“Oh.”

Kylo exhaled, and his tension left him. His worries from the last six weeks disappeared, and were replaced with… this. With the fact that Armitage Hux had asked him on a date, and thought he looked fetching in uniform. As the reality of it sank in, he found himself blushing, and his gaze went out across the water.

He laid back onto the blanket and closed his eyes. As he relaxed and pondered the strange evening, he could feel his concentration turning inward, and he found the edges of the stillness that had eluded him.

“Okay,” he breathed, and crossed his arms behind his head, leaving his eyes closed.

He heard Hux shifting next to him, felt a hand on his thigh, a squeeze.

Kylo smiled wickedly.

**Author's Note:**

> It definitely goes on from there, but I wrote this for the PG-13 version of the anthology.
> 
> Also, I made up most of the names for the stuff on Arkanis, but the Beaubian Woods is a place around here. Amazingly, the second Google result is "Beaubian Woods body found," so that's nice.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr - [@vadianna](http://vadianna.tumblr.com).


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